


Where Your Treaure Is

by PhoebePennell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoebePennell/pseuds/PhoebePennell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rita Skeeter wrote "The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore" shortly after his death. As most know, Rita Skeeter is not the most reliable of sources, and her tale of the Dumbledore's and there pain is no exception. Albus Dumbledore was one of the greatest wizards to have ever lived. He was not only a great wizard, but a rather exceptional man, one who deserves to have his story told correctly, to have all the treasures of his past, present, and future to be seen for all their beauty and all of their grief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dumbledore's World Tour

Where Your Treasure Is

Part 1

The Treasures of Your Past

“In the depths of the clear water lay a smooth stone bearing the words: pay me with the treasures of your past.” –Beedle the Bard, _The Fountain of Fair Fortune_.

Chapter one

Dumbledore’s World Tour

            The Leaky Cauldron was alive with the clinking of glasses and the cheers of drunken wizards. Albus Dumbledore sat at the bar, a glass of brandy sitting in his hand. The spirit sat warm in his stomach, intensifying the excitement brewing in his chest.

            “Can you believe we leave for Greece tomorrow morning?” said a slightly inebriated Elphias Doge. Albus felt butterflies flapping around his heart at the thought.

“No, not entirely.” He admitted, taking a sip of his brandy. “I’m so excited that I keep thinking of things that may prevent me from going. I’ll be glad when we’ve gone, maybe then I’ll be able to think more clearly.” The wizard pulled a small metal container from his robes. “Would you like a lemon drop, Elphias?” he asked. Elphias was his oldest friend, they had met on their first day at Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Elphias’s skin had been terribly green and covered in scaly marks, the ending stages of a particularly nasty case of dragon pox. Albus was the son of a known ‘muggle-hater,’ and the other students had feared that the young boy had held similar sentiments to those of his father, leaving them both as outcasts.  They became fast friends, and as Albus’s popularity grew he never forgot about his first friend.

 

            “No thank you, Albus. I think I’ve had all my stomach can handle for tonight.” Elphias said. He was tinged a light green, not unfamiliar to the color of the late stage rash those many years ago.

“I think,” said Albus, taking his friend under his arm, “that maybe you should go lie down.” Elphias only nodded, his complexion now dragon pox green. Albus drug him up the stairs and into their room and laid him in his bed.  He pulled out his wand and tapped Elphias’s wrists three times each, bringing back some of his color.

 

“Sleep well.” Albus whispered. He turned to return to the bar to finish his brandy when he heard a pecking at the window. Perplexed, the young wizard opened the window, allowing a very familiar barn owl into the room. The creature flew madly to and fro, squawking and screeching like a banshee the whole time.

“Widdershins?!” cried Albus, trying desperately to bring his mother’s owl under control. “Widdershins, would you please calm yourself and give me the letter you came all this way to deliver!” Finally, the owl landed on Albus’s arm, exchanging the letter for a bit of food. Why on earth had that crazy owl flown all the way to London from Godric’s Hollow? Something terrible must have happened, just like his gut had warned him.

 

_Albus,_

_Come home. Now._

_-Aberforth_

 

Albus felt like a knife had pieced his heart and cut straight down through his abdomen. Quickly, he scribbled a note for Elphias and then with a wave of his wand, he was gone.

 

            The knife sitting in his stomach only ripped further into him as Albus apparated into his family’s home. The house was in good shape, but the tension that hung in the air made it seem as if a great explosion had gone off. Albus’s ears perked up, catching the sound of wicked screams coming from the basement. He ran, taking the stairs three at a time, wand at the ready. But what he found was something so terrible that not even the oldest and most powerful of magic could repair. On the floor laid his mother, her face pale and expressionless. His brother, Aberforth, held their younger sister close to him. Ariana was a tiny thing, but the sounds that came from her were equal to those of a beast far larger. She screamed and cried, and no amount of cooing from her brother could calm her. Albus simply stood there completely dumbstruck, as if he’d been hit by a dozen stunning charms.

 

“A- Aberforth?” He stuttered. His brother looked up at him, his own eyes reamed red by tears. He raised his finger to his lips, as if to tell Albus “Sssssshhhhh, I’ve almost got her.” And so, Albus sat there on his basement stairs, looking between the blank face of his mother and the anguished expressions of his siblings. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and cry and destroy everything in his path. Anything if it would bring his mother back, if it would make his sister stop crying, and if it meant he could go and travel the world. He knew he shouldn’t have thought it. He knew that he shouldn’t have felt the singe of bitterness that was swelling in his heart, but he couldn’t help but be angry with his family. How could she let this happen? How could Aberforth let this happen? Where was he? He was the only one of them that could always calm her down during a fit. How could he not be there?

            Finally, Ariana settled down. All her crying must have exhausted her, because there she lay in Aberforth’s arms asleep. He carried up the stairs past Albus up to his bedroom and laid her down. The brothers met in the kitchen, where Albus immediately asked him what had happened.

 

“She had one of her fits.” He said, plopping down into a chair. “I wasn’t home, and mom just couldn’t calm her down. There was a small explosion from Ari’s loose magic and well… I came home and found her on the ground. She wouldn’t let go of mom. I think part of her knows what she did, and it won’t help her fear of herself either.”

 

“We’ll have to inform the Ministry about mom.” Said Albus. He massaged his temple, the beginnings of a headache taking shape.

Aberforth looked at him as if he’d just suggested they sell the goats. “They’ll take Ariana away! Throw her in Azkaban! Al-“

“Ab, she will be fine. The Ministry of Magic is not going to throw a fourteen year old girl into Azkaban. I’ll send word immediately. Please, go and keep an eye on her, I don’t want her to wake up and have another episode when the Auror’s arrive.” And with that, Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore began his life as the head of the Dumbledore house.

 

            The following week was a flurry of events. The Aurors did come, though no cause of death could be decided. Two days after her death, Kendra Dumbledore was given the most beautiful of burials. The Dumbledore’s did not have many friends, but those that did come were more than enough. Honoria, his father’s sister, came. She was without her fiancé, she said she left him because of his hairy heart, though the rumor was that he had been discovered fondling some Horklumps. Elphias came too, taking a break from his tour of Greece, which was a relief for Albus. If he needed anything right now it was a friend, someone with whom he could talk about something other than his family.

“How is Greece?” Albus had asked, desperate to escape Godric’s Hollow even if just for a moment.

“It’s really spectacular, Albus. It’s just really something.” Elphias replied, a spark glinting in his eyes. “I’ve some of the strangest creatures imaginable! Manticores and chimeras, I even saw a giant three headed dog! Some of the things I’ve seen didn’t even have names. I’m amazed by how much there is out there that has yet to be discovered.”

And of course, their neighbor Bathilda Bagshot came. She and Kendra had been good friends, and she had always been kind and considerate of the Dumbledore’s needs. When the family had first moved to Godric’s Hollow, Bathilda had tried to welcome them with a plate of home baked cauldron cakes. But Kendra, still shaken from the loss of her husband and the breaking of her daughter, had closed the door in her face. But good old Batty wouldn’t give up until she’d become one of Kendra Dumbledore’s only friends.

            “I’m so sorry for your loss, dearies.” She’d told the Dumbledore children. “If you need anything, anything at all you know where to find me.”

 

“Thank you, Bathilda.” Said Albus. As calm as she may have seemed, the redness of her eyes told a very different story.

The days after the funeral were the hardest. Ariana hadn’t had a fit since, though she spent more time with Aberforth than before, if that was possible. They were usually out feeding the goats, were they would laugh and enjoy one another’s presence. Albus spent most of his time inside with a book. He had always loved to read and study, but now it was different. He wasn’t doing it because he enjoyed it anymore, but rather because it provided him with an escape. Something very deep inside him wanted nothing more than to leave Godric’s Hollow and to join Elphias, who was preparing to head south to Egypt. But he could never leave. No, not while Ab was still in school and Ariana needed looking after.

Even now, Albus found himself leafing through the familiar pages of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ for the umpteenth time. It had been his mother’s, the very copy from which she had read to them as children. Aberforth always favored _Grumble the Grubby Goat_ , while Ariana had very much enjoyed _Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump_. Albus himself had very much enjoyed _The Fountain of Fair Fortune_ , _The Tale of Three Brothers_ remained his favorite. He had spent many hours pondering which artifact of Death he would have chosen. While young, the conflict lied between the Invisibility Cloak, which would have allowed him to easily sneak into the kitchen and take whatever sweets his little heart had desired, and the eldest brother’s unbeatable wand, which would have presented him with a wand of his own, something he lacked at the time.

 Now, Death’s cloak of invisibility seemed useless. Albus was more than capable of casting a Disillusionment charm strong enough to turn him fully invisible, so while the cloak was the right choice, it was not the choice that his heart yearned for. In his younger years, he’d had no real use for the Resurrection stone. Everyone he’d loved was alive, his father was home and well and Ariana was a bright young girl who had an uncommon control of her power. But now, the prospects of bringing back his parents called to him, stronger and stronger. But the stone could not truly bring back the dead, as the second brother had quickly learned. No, the only object that might be able to give him what he wanted was the wand. Surely the wand of Death could reserve even the most permanent of deaths, something no other wand in this world could. Though, Albus though closing the book, what exactly is it that I want? The young wizard’s heart was lonely, and craved a companion. If he couldn’t travel the world, he at least wanted somebody with who he could talk, someone who could challenge him to think and to better himself like he had at Hogwarts.

“Buttercup’s hairs are looking nice and curly lately, aren’t they Ari?” said Aberforth as he trudged in from the goat pins, a trail of what Albus hoped was mud following in his wake.

“Yes, very curly.” Giggled Ariana. “She’s so very soft, I could just sleep with her forever.”

“I do hope that that is mud.” Said Albus, his eye fixed on his brother. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the floor and cried _tergeo_! The unknown liquid flew into the tip of his wand, even the bits on his siblings shoes flew in until the kitchen was again spotless.

Ariana looked at Albus with bugged eyes, as if he’d outside and turned Buttercup’s fur into a wig. Aberforth quickly set her up to his room to wait for him, then turned to Albus.

“For somebody as clever as you, you sure do some stupid things.” Albus, realizing the impact of the thing he’d just done, stayed silent.

“I think I should quit school.” Said Aberforth. “I think I should be the one taking care of Ariana. You don’t know her, not like I do. With you in charge it won’t be long before she has a fit so bad that the very house explodes!”

“You are NOT quitting school!”

“Why?! It’s not like I’ll ever be as great as you! ‘oh Albus, he’s so bright and powerful, everybody loves him. Forget about his goat loving brother and his looney sister! Oh poor Albus, he had to cancel his travels to take care of a family he knows nothing about!’” Aberforth wailed, eyes wide and red faced. Albus felt a chord snap inside himself and a hand snap across his brother’s face.

“Don’t speak to me like that. Ever.” Albus looked at the 15 year old that stood before him, the one who was looking him straight in the eyes and trying not to cry despite the stinging of his cheek. In years to come, nobody, not even the darkest wizard to ever live, would be able to stare straight into the ice cold fury of Albus Dumbledore’s eyes without a flood of fear overtaking them the way that this 15 year old was right at this moment. “You will graduate from Hogwarts, and I will care for Ariana as best I can. It’s what mother would have wanted, Ab.” That was the last time either of them brought up the idea of quitting school. It was also the last time Albus used magic in front of Ariana. No matter how hard he tried, how hard he hoped, in his heart he knew that whatever the future held for him, it was not here in Godric’s Hollow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Hopefully you've enjoyed what you've read. I've been working on this since September, researching everything I could learn about Dumbledore, his family, and his history. Writing from the perspective of such a beloved character has been a challenge, especially since young Dumbledore is a bit more selfish than his older self. But I'm very excited to fully explore his rich history and to watch him grow in a way only JK Rowling has before me. This will be a three part story, part one exploring his past, part two exploring his present, and part three exploring his future. Yes, future. I have a lot planned, and am very excited to share this with you. Everything here, from aunt Honoria to Aberforth's favorite story comes from canonical sources. Please, leave kudos and comments! Tell me what you think, I'm very excited to hear what you have to say and if you liked my take on the story of Albus Dumbledore. And before you leave a mean comment, remember it could be worse. I could be Rita Skeeter.  
> -Phoebe


	2. The Boy from Durmstrang

Chapter 2

The Boy from Durmstrang

Summer, it seemed, was only beginning. And yet it felt to Albus as if it had been many long years since his mother had died and he’d become the sole caretaker of his siblings. Ariana had yet to have a fit, much to his relief, but she spent so much time with Aberforth that he rarely saw either of them. Aberforth had been avoiding him since their argument, and while the quiet allowed him plenty of time to read, it did nothing for his mood. Often, he went and spoke with Bathilda and helped her with her latest manuscript, which she called _A History of Magic_. It was to be her magnum opus, and Albus was more than happy to help her construct it. But even that did not cure whatever it was that ailed his young heart.

Now he found himself sitting on the porch swing, his nose buried deep inside _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. Occasionally, a warm summer breeze would blow by, ruffling his red hair and cause the pages of his book to lose their place. He cared not so much about his hair than about the fact that he had to find his place again. Albus closed the book, finally fed up with it, and took a breath so deep it felt like his first gulp of air. He looked around and took in the beauties of summer; the glint of the sun shining through the leaves of the trees, the sounds of the birds flying and singing, and the cries of Bathilda as she attempted to de-gnome her prized garden. Whatever world he’d convinced himself he’d been living in, it was not has bright as the world he saw now. He spent the rest of the afternoon outside, enjoying the feel of the sunlight as it poured over him.

Across the way, Albus saw Bathilda coming his way, a casserole in her hand. This was not uncommon, especially as of late, but what was most unusual was that she was not alone. Trailing behind her was a tall boy with blond hair, his dark clothes making his hair seem lighter.

“Good afternoon!” she greeted him once she reached the steps.

“Hello, Bathilda.” Albus said with a smile as he stood.

“I just wanted to give you another casserole. This is one of my own invention, everything came from my garden. Though I had quite a time trying to get the tomatoes from those grubby little gnomes! Oh!” she said, turning to the blond boy. “I wanted to introduce you to my great nephew. Albus, this is Gellert Grindelwald. Gellert, this is Albus Dumbledore.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Gellert.” Albus extended out his hand, which Gellert took.

“Same to you, Albus. From vat my aunt has told me, you are quite ze vizard.” Albus felt a heat stirring in his cheeks, and a strange desire to fix his hair.

“Oh, well, everybody has their talents. Mine are no more than any others.”

 Gellert gave him a small smile and said “Modesty. Such a charming and noble quality.”

The blush in Albus’ cheeks only worsened, while Bathilda seemed rather pleased with herself.

“Gellert, why don’t you stay here and spend some time with Albus?

“I vould like zat,” he said, “if you vouldn’t mind, of course.”

“No, not at all.” Said Albus, a smile playing on his lips. After she gave her good byes, Bathilda dashed off to her own home, no doubt to work on her manuscript. The boys sat down on the porch swing in awkward silence, until:

“So, where are you from?” asked Albus.

“Is my accent zat noticeable?”

“No, it’s not too thick. But it is clear enough to show that you’re not a Brit.”

“I am from Eastern Europe, on the edge of the border between Germany and Austria-Hungary. I take it zat you are from Godric’s Hollow?”

“No, I was born in Mould-on-the-Wold. It’s a wizarding village some way north of here. That’s where I grew up. We moved here when I was ten.” Replied Albus, who kept wiping the sweet off of his hands.

“And you vent to Hogvarts? Zat is ze name of ze school here in Britain, is it not?”

“Yes, I went to Hogwarts. I just graduated earlier this month, though I’ve been missing it as of late.”

Gellert turned to him excitedly, his eyes full of curiosity. “Aunt Bathilda has told me much about Hogvarts. Do zey really have houses? Vich one vere you in?”

Albus turned to him, a new light glinting in his deep blue eyes. “Yes, there are four houses. Hufflepuff, named for Helga Hufflepuff who valued loyalty and hard work above all else. Their house colors are yellow and black, with the badger as there House mascot. Ravenclaw for Rowena Ravenclaw, who valued intelligence, cleverness, and creativity. The eagle is there mascot. Their house colors are blue and bronze. Slytherin, named for Salazar Slytherin who valued cunning and ambition, they are represented by the snake. Their house colors are green and silver. And finally, Gryffindor named for Godric Gryffindor, who valued bravery and chivalry. The Lion is there mascot. I was in Gryffindor, though the sorting hat considered placing me in Ravenclaw.  Our house colors are scarlet and gold.”

Gellert squinted his eyes and cocked his head, “Sorting hat?”

Albus laughed, “Oh yes, I forgot to explain. Hogwarts was founded nearly a thousand years ago. The four founders chose who they would have in their houses then, but they soon realized that they would not exist forever, and the story goes that Gryffindor plucked the hat off his head and enchanted it to replace them in the sorting ceremony. No one is quite sure how they animated the hat, though I theorize that the hat is a horcrux, but nobody but the sorting hat knows and it won’t tell. I’ve asked.”

“Zat vould be quite a piece of dark magic for the founders of a school that is known for its intolerance of the dark arts.” Gellert seemed, if possible, more interested.

“It is only a theory. It was the only spell I could find that would last that long. But there are many things about magic that have yet to be discovered, and many things that were lost that have been yet to be rediscovered.”

“Vat house do you zink I vould have been in had I attended Hogvarts?”

Albus pondered this for a moment, stroking his chin as he thought. “Hm. I can see that you are very intelligent, so perhaps Ravenclaw? But I can also see you in Slytherin. But in truth only the Sorting Hat can truly tell you.”

Gellert did not respond, having taken notice of the book the sat between the boys. “Zis is Ze Tales of Beedle ze Bard!” He exclaimed, “Vat story is your favorite?”

“The Tale of the Three Brothers.” Said Albus, surprised by the sudden gleam of light that shone from Gellert’s eyes.

“Zat is my favorite too. I grew up hearing zat story, and I grew up fascinated by ze Deathly Hallows.”

“The what?”

“Ze Deathly Hallows, ze Elder wand, the Resurrection Stone, and ze Invisibility Cloak. Beedle never called zem zat, but my grandmother knew much about zem. Which tool do you zink you vould vant?”

“Either the wand or the resurrection stone. I do realize that the cloak is the best option of the three, but I cannot deny that my heart wishes for more than to hide from Death.”

Gellert grinned madly, looking at Albus as if he were the single most wonderful thing in the world. “I believe ve are going to be very good friends, Albus. Very good friends. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should probably go check on my aunt. Make sure the Gnomes didn’t overwhelm her.” Albus nodded with a smile. As Gellert descended the stairs, he turned back and said “Perhaps I could have been in Gryffindor. I always did like the color red.”

* * *

 

 An owl sat in the window sill, waiting patiently with a letter and a small, warm package. Albus took the letter from the bird, giving it a pet. He opened the letter, letting the envelope fall to the floor.

 

_Albus,_

_I hope things are well for you and the children. Egypt has proven to be most exciting! Perhaps more so than Greece! The ruins are magnificent, and the traps those ancient Egyptian wizards left are just stupendous feats of magic! I recently explored one of the tombs, and found something most spectacular! I have sent it to you, in hopes that it will prove to be a most loyal companion to you._

_Your friend,_

_Elphias_

Albus laid the letter down, swapping it for the package. The box was small and very warm, like a bun that’s only half cooled. He pulled out his wand and cut the bonds that held it closed. Inside was an egg, a beautiful little red and gold egg. It was warm to the touch. Next to the egg was another letter:

_Albus,_

_Surprise! It’s a Phoenix egg! They’re very rare creatures, and very hard to domesticate I’ve heard. But I thought that if anyone could, it would be you Albus. The man who explored the tomb with me said that the egg needs to be kept warm in order to hatch. We found it in a pool of cold water, so who knows how long it was down there. Be sure to have plenty of herbs for when it hatches, that’s all they eat. I’ve placed a self-warming charm on the box, so you might want to reapply it. Good luck!_

_Elphias_

Pulling out his wand, Albus quickly cast a self-warming charm on the small box and set the little egg back into its incubator.       

            “You’ve certainly flown a long way.” He said turning to the owl, which cooed loudly in response. “Well, you’re welcome to rest in Widdershins cage. It’s over there.” He pointed to the open cage across the sitting room in which his mother’s barn owl slept. The little owl flew across the room and into the cage, where he ate and drank greedily.

            Albus took the egg box and the letters upstairs and set them all on his desk. _Tomorrow_ , he thought as he laid himself onto his bed, _I’ll go see Bathilda about some herbs_. And as he drifted off to sleep, he heard the most beautiful song he’d ever heard. It filled his heart with a sense of calm and strength, and filled his mind with nothing but the boy from Durmstrang.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry it's been so long! Life's been crazy with school and work and my other projects, But I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I will have the next one up as soon as possibly. Let me know what you think in the comments, and don't be afraid to leave kudos! Thank you for the support!  
> -Phoebe


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